


White Peacocks

by Sophiexw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 17:45:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophiexw/pseuds/Sophiexw
Summary: Follows Lucius and Narcissa at Malfoy Manor after the fall of Lord Voldemort and their life. Will be revealing all the secrets you've ever wanted to know about the Malfoys and their life; How did Lucius evade Azkaban? How is Draco treated at home? How did Narcissa cope with the deaths and losses of her family?





	1. Chapter 1

On the evening of October 31st 1981, Lucius Malfoy was reclining in his favourite armchair with a glass of firewhiskey and a plate of small pumpkin pies left over from the children's Halloween party, he had almost finished reading Cantankerous Nott's 'Importance of the Preservation of Pure Blood.' As he was about to reach for his fourth pie, a hand snatched the plate away and his hand hit the mahogany table instead.

“It's nearly eleven, you shouldn't eat so late.”

“Cissa, one more. Only. Please?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes and begrudgingly handed her husband the smallest pie on the plate before placing the pies a safe distance outside Lucius' reach.

It was almost midnight when Lucius finally finished his book and decided to go to sleep. He only slept for three hours before a brief sharp pain on his left forearm woke him. This must have been a dream, as the Dark Lord's call is more like a slow burning sensation, however, before he could comprehend what had just happened and go back to sleep, a figure of a woman appeared beside his bead.

“Bella! What in Merlin-“

His cousin and fellow Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange quickly smacked one hand over his mouth and the other on his shoulder to keep his still.

“We need to go. NOW,” she whispered.

Lucius quickly looked over at his wife; Narcissa looked as if a hundred hippogriffs would not be able to wake her. He grabbed a long dark green cloak that would hopefully conceal his pyjamas and slippers, then swiftly followed his cousin with not a word more.

 

This was one of the rare instances when Lucius Malfoy felt genuine fear; believing The Dark Lord would succeed in taking over wizarding Britain, Lucius had engaged in some activities which may not be looked upon favourably by the Ministry, and now that The Dark Lord has fallen, there was nothing preventing the damned Auror Office from initiating a full investigation.

“…He couldn't kill the Potter boy. When we arrived the house was practically destroyed and there was no sign of the Dark Lord, only the bodies of James and Lily Potter.”

Lucius caught sight of Severus Snape sitting alone in a corner, slumped against the wall, as if he had lost the will to live, his sallow skin even paler. At the mention of Lily Potter's name, deep ridges formed on his forehead and he closed his eyes, as if willing himself not to cry. Lucius walked over and gently patted his young friend's shoulder.

“How are you certain the boy survived?” Lucius demanded, there was no possible way a child of Draco's age could have killed The Dark Lord.

“We heard the kid crying as he was taken away by that half-breed,” Rodolphus Lestrange replied, “Bella and I considered killing him and the boy, but, alas, he is not ours to kill.”

“You will need a plan,” Snape said, “as Dumbledore believes me to be his spy, I am safe.”

“We fight. We have learnt from the most powerful wizard of all time, we can defeat the aurors and finish the Dark Lord's work!” Evan Rosier growled.

Half of the room showed their approval, whilst the other half exchanged worried glances. Lucius decided to speak for the latter half.

“I think that it is less than prudent to openly declare war against the Ministry.”

Cassius Crabbe, as well as many others, nodded in approval;

“My son has just turned two, and my wife is expecting another – do you honestly expect me to leave them behind and waste away in Azkaban?”

“Cowards! The lot of you!” Bellatrix spat, glowering at Cassius and Lucius.

“Perhaps you do not comprehend the severity of the situation, Lestrange,” Lucius hissed.

“Oh we comprehend perfectly, Malfoy,” Bellatrix's lips curled into a snarl, “you know as well as I that the Dark Lord has not been completely vanquished, and that he will return soon.”

“And you know as well as I that he asked us to. Keep. Them. Safe.”

The night went on thusly, arguments and the occasional hex on how to proceed, until it was decided that those who unfortunately found themselves captured and sentenced to Azkaban will go proudly, however they will not betray any of their fellow comrades under questioning.

It was almost six o'clock when Lucius returned to Malfoy Manor, he went immediately to his study where a bottle of McLaggen's Finest Firewhisky was always present. About to pour himself a glass, a sudden impulsiveness compelled him to drink straight from the bottle – four large gulps before heading to his bedroom.

“Cissa!” Lucius was surprised that his wife has woken so early, she was sitting in an armchair besides the window in a dark blue dressing gown, looking intently at the sky outside. 'I hope I did not wake you when I left?'

“No no, it was the fireworks that woke me – around four in the morning I think. I take it that the reason for your impromptu meeting was the same as the fireworks?”

And so Lucius recounted the events of the three hours past, however no amount of firewhisky could inspire enough courage in him to tell his wife that her beloved sister has decided to fight for the Dark Lord until her death.

________________________________________

The next day Lucius and Narcissa were eating breakfast as if everything was normal – that was their decided plan; to pretend they had nothing to do with the Dark Lord, when Dobby came in carrying the mail: a copy of The Daily Prophet and a letter sealed with the Ministry of Magic stamp.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,_

_Following the delightful events of last night, the Ministry is hosting a celebratory party tomorrow in honour of Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Lived' and his spectacular defeat of You-Know-Who, ending a period of darkness and terror for the Wizarding World. As one of the Ministry's most generous supporters, we are inviting you to join us at 6 o'clock in the evening in the Atrium._

_Best Wishes,_

_Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic_

“It looks like we're going to a party Cissa,” Lucius said, placing the letter down onto the table and picking up The Daily Prophet.

“Slightly worse news; you cousin Sirius has been arrested for being a Death Eater and…” Lucius paused whilst finishing the article, “and for blowing up some muggles and Peter Pettigrew.”

Narcissa gently shrugged one shoulder, broke off a piece of toast and started buttering it.

“Sirius Black is no family of mine,” she vehemently said lowly.

Lucius would have believed her except for the fact she continued to butter the same piece of toast for two minutes now, her knuckles holding the butter knife white. “I hope he rots in Azkaban.”

Lucius and Narcissa, having arrived fashionably late, were instantly greeted with warm words from Cornelius Fudge, a Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and with not so warm words from Alastor Moody, head of the Auror Office. Lucius was pleased to note the absence of the blood traitor Arthur Weasley, and returned to his conversation with Fudge.

“Shocking…absolutely shocking to see someone do such horrendous things…blood everywhere.”

“Yes, and I am sure that the entire wizarding world is grateful to you for the apprehension of such a violent criminal… certainly he must have been largely responsible for the numerous previous attacks as well?”

“Well we shall find out next week, during his trial, discover the monstrous things he has been doing under You-Know-Who, although he still claims inn- ah! Weasley! Glad you see you!”

Fudge's sudden exclamation was accompanied by loud grunts and the appearance of a lanky bespectacled redheaded man and a smaller redheaded boy, both wearing robes that had been roughly mended.

“Sorry I'm late Fudge, fireplace malfunctioned a bit – and three boys - you know how they can be!” Weasley laughed whilst wiping Floo Powder off his face. “This is Percy, my youngest, he's been begging me to bring him to the Ministry, wants to be Minister of Magic – don't you, Percy?”

The boy threw his father an irritated look as his face turned as red as his hair, whilst Fudge burst into laughter.

This was completely and utterly against decorum; no other families brought their children, yet everyone else was fawning over this redhead little brat as if he was The-Boy-Who-Lived himself.

“How dare you show your face here Malfoy? Do you have no shame?”

Lucius cursed internally; it seems his pleasant evening will be short lived.

“Pity you did not bring your entire family Weasley, I suppose today's food will be the best they've ever have the chance to taste.”

“Surrounding you are the families of those who died fighting You-Know-Who, whose deaths were caused by you and your Death Eater friends!”

Lucius rolled his eyes and sighed, he was already bored with this conversation.

“I do not plan on wasting my time listening to your unfounded accusations Weasley,” he drawled, walking away to find better company more fitting for a Malfoy.

The evening was spent, on Lucius' part, discussing with various high ranking Ministry officials, such as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Bartemius Crouch, on how You-Know-Who's downfall will affect the political landscape of wizarding Britain, whilst Narcissa utilised her time by offering her sincerest condolences as well as the occasional sympathetic smile and pat on the hand to the widows and families of those who died fighting You-Know-Who's.

When they finally returned to Malfoy Manor, their son, Draco, was fast asleep. As Lucius sat stroking Draco's little cloud of blond hair, he realised that for his beloved child there was no possible way he would allow himself to go to Azkaban.

 

The Malfoy's pleasant lunch of venison pie and pumpkin soup was imprudently interrupted by Dobby the house-elf accompanying two men, one tall and black, dressed in rich purple robes, and the other, of a considerably reduced stature, was dressed in black and blue, however both were sporting silver badges with the engraved blue letters 'D.M.L.E'- Aurors. Narcissa stabbed at a piece of venison with her fork; with the Dark Lord gone, these Aurors think they have nothing to fear and they assume that they can act with such a complete lack of propriety –

“Gentlemen, to what do we owe this pleasure?” she asked, smiling courteously in the fashion her mother Druella had instilled in her since birth.

“We need you to come with us to the Ministry – and Mr Malfoy, you too. We have some questions to ask you.”

“Unfortunately that will not be possible, I am a busy man, and I ought to have received prior notice.” Lucius continued to eat as if there had been no disruption, Narcissa doing the same.

“We're not asking, Malfoy. Both of you are to come with us to the Ministry now.”

Five seconds of silence ensued, until Narcissa's cornflower blue eyes locked with Lucius's silvery grey ones, and simultaneously, they rose from their chairs.

“Dobby, fetch our cloaks.”

They followed the aurors in stony silence, Narcissa stealing worried glances at her husband, who continued to stare fixedly ahead, but gently squeezed her hand in reassurance. The quartet walked until they reached the black Ministry car parked outside the iron gates of Malfoy Manor.

Maybe they know Lucius is a Death Eater. Perhaps they found evidence of his participation in murder of those mudblood siblings and their parents? No, it was too soon; it has only been four days, the incompetence of the auror office meant that there was not enough time for them to gather sufficient evidence to arrest Lucius surely? Or maybe someone, some fool had cracked under questioning and betrayed Lucius? Narcissa inhaled deeply, she ought not to be thinking these things, it was imperative at this instant she hide her thoughts.

Lucius on the other hand, made no attempt to control his thoughts; he was furious at the fact that he and his wife had been dragged to the Ministry for no reason. He was a respected member of society and a dear friend of the Minister herself, how dare they do this to them as if they were common criminals?

The stony silence continued for the entire journey; for Lucius and Narcissa, this was a battle in itself; breaking the silence was a sign of weakness, and for the aurors, well, there was plenty of time to talk later in the interrogation room.

________________________________________

“Take a seat Mr and Mrs Malfoy.”The tall one said, pulling out two chair with his wand, and proceeded to sit on one of the chairs opposite them. 'My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt, and this is my partner, John Dawlish.'

The room was dark; a lone oil lamp being the only source of light. Clearly the luxury of an enchanted sky ceiling was not given to suspected criminals.

“Why are we here, Mr Shacklebolt?” Narcissa asked, one of her eyebrows raising slightly. “If we are to be so unceremoniously removed from our home there ought to be a good reason, no?”

“It is about your sister Bellatr-“

Narcissa almost jumped out from her chair.

“-ix Lestrange. Do you know where she is?” Dawlish asked.

Lucius and Narcissa both answered in the negative.

“Have you had any contact with her for the past five days?” he asked again.

Again, Lucius and Narcissa both answered in the negative.

Shacklebolt sighed and pulled out a file from a pocket in his robes, from which he took out two pieces of paper and laid them on the table; on one was a missing persons report, and the other, a photograph.

“Augusta Longbottom contacted me on the second of November, saying her son and daughter-in-law Frank and Alice did not come home from the Ministry party that night. As Frank and Alice were both members of the Order of the Phoenix, I thought little of their temporary disappearance, assuming they were on a secret mission.” Shacklebolt paused to point his illuminated wand at the photo. “I was wrong. The Longbottoms were found early this morning by the Order.”

The photo was of a man and a woman – Frank and Alice presumably- their faces, hair and clothes were covered in dried blood, their eyes were rolled back, exposing the yellowish whites of their eyes, and their mouths were agape, allowing their tongues to hang out.

Narcissa stole a glance at Lucius to see if he knew anything about this, however, judging by his expression of pure shock, he obviously did not.

“They were found in a hunting lodge belonging to the Lestranges.” Shacklebolt continued, carefully looking at Narcissa and Lucius for a reaction, 'if you know anything at all, you must tell us.'

If Lucius and Narcissa were astonished by this, their still and calm faced betrayed no hint of their true emotions.

“Narcissa and I, we have not been in contact with our sister for quite some time, and I can assure you that we had no knowledge of this appalling incident.”

“Are you quite sure, Mr Malfoy, that you had no inkling of an idea they might carry out such an attack?” Dawlish interjected. 'Where were you

Lucius bristled at this obvious backhanded accusation.

“If you do not have any evidence against us, my wife and I will like to go home.”

“One more thing. Do you know where they might be hiding? Any other homes here or abroad?”

“They have a small retreat in the south of France, in Montpellier. And a holiday retreat in Devon.”

Shacklebolt sighed, looking at his interrogates' stony faces, they were not going to get any more information from them today.

“You may go. Thank you for your time.”

As Narcissa and Lucius were making their way from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to the Atrium, Narcissa caught sight of a woman, or rather, her headdress of a stuffed vulture. She was in her late sixties, and visibly distressed, however, it was difficult to see which emotion dominated; sadness or anger. Narcissa nudged her husband and nodded in the direction of the woman.

“If I'm not mistaken, that is Augusta Longbottom, is it not?”

“She must have found out about her son and daughter,”Lucius muttered.

They snuck quietly past Mrs Longbottom, her rage would certainly have turned from her present victim to them; the family of those who orphaned her grandchild, if she had seen them, behind them they heard her voice steadily grow louder and shakier.

“They were your responsibility Crouch! You should have looked after them! Why did you not listen when I told you? You should've searched for them on that day! They are dead because of your, your complete and utter incompetence – how dare you make excuses for yourself? Thought they were on a secret mission for the Order did you? Bartemius Crouch, if you do not find the monsters who did this, Merlin help me, you will regret being born!”

Lucius grabbed Narcissa's arm and they hastily made for the lift, eager to be far away from Augusta Longbottom's fury.

________________________________________

With a small pop, Narcissa and Lucius appeared outside the gates of their Manor, and they hurried through the iron gates towards the Manor; they had been away for almost two hours, and although Dobby was a more than adequate babysitter, Draco must be wondering where his mother was. There was no need for Narcissa to worry, as Draco's chuckles was heard all the way from the vestibule. A mass of ebony black curls conjuring green dragon shaped clouds for a laughing Draco greeted Narcissa and Lucius as they entered the drawing room.

“Bella?”

Bellatrix Lestrange turned around to face her sister, a large smirk spread across her face.

“You shouldn't leave Draco here alone, you know, when we arrived, he was crying. Honestly, how can you call yourselves parents?”

“What in Merlin's name are you doing here? You need to leave.”

“It's wonderful to see you too, dear sister,”Bella's voice saturated with sarcasm.

“We are serious, Bella.” Lucius interjected. “We were just called to the Ministry because of you and Rodolphus. Why would you do that? Why would you kill two of the most popular Aurors – the whole Department of Magical Law Enforcement is looking for you!”

“Look, Lucius, we didn't kill them, when we left they were very much alive,” Bella hissed. “All we wanted was to retrieve some information from them, about the Dark Lord. Rodolphus, Rabastan, me and the Crouch kid, we abducted the Longbottoms and we took them to our hunting lodge. We were using the Cruciatus curse on them but they told us nothing. But then,” Bella's eyes widened, and lowering her voice, she said, “they stopped. Just…nothing. It was as if the Cruciatus curse did not affect them anymore. It was as if they became unconscious, we waited a long while but they wouldn't wake up. Then the damned Order came.”

“Rodolphus, Rabastan and Crouch, where are they now?” Narcissa asked.

Bella turned her head toward the window, looking out at the wide expanse of forest on the Malfoy estate, where a tiny lone cabin stood.

“Merlin! You hid them here? Are you absolutely insane? This is the first place the Ministry will look!”

“Cissy! Please! We won't stay long – Rabs, he was injured when we were escaping, that half breed Lupin – all we need are some healing potions and food, then we will go.”

There was a few seconds of stillness before Narcissa nodded and headed for the pantry. When Narcissa was far away enough, Bellatrix beckoned Lucius to come closer;

“I fear we have a traitor in our midst, as for me, my money is on Snape.”

“Absurd. You know how loyal Snape is to us, he was the one who told the Dark Lord the prophecy.” Lucius refused to believe his friend was anything less than loyal; after all, he was Draco's godfather, he would never betray them like this.

“He spies on the Order pretending to be spying on us – who knows which side he's really on.”

“How can you be certain it was a tip off? To be sure, they did find you rather quickly, but perhaps the Order got lucky. It is not as if you or Rod were ever discreet with your previous escapades.”

As this moment Narcissa returned, holding a box with an assortment of breads, hard cheeses, pickles and dried meats.

“Here. These should last you a week or so. Dobby is preparing the potions, they will be ready shortly.”

Placing the box on the floor, Narcissa rushed towards her sister and hugged her tightly, Bellatrix stunned by the sudden sentimental act, chortled and half-heartedly tried to push Narcissa away.

“It's not like I shall be gone forever, we'll go into hiding for a few months, but the Dark Lord will be back soon, and we along with him. Don't try to contact me, don't put yourself in danger.”

With the all-purpose healing potions prepared, Bellatrix sauntered out, having placed the potions and the box of food in her small black purse. Narcissa hoped this was not the last time she sees her sister alive; everyone knew that under Crouch, aurors were instructed to 'kill rather than capture,' and the Unforgiveable Curses were encouraged. For Lucius, he comprehended the fact that this was just the beginning of a long series of questionings and accusations.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Lord Voldemort has vanished, that does not mean life will return back to normal; the Malfoys will have to deal with the aftermath of Voldemort's disappearance to the best of their ability - the war is not yet over.

**"Sirius Orion Black, infamous Death Eater, charged with killing the honoured Order of the Phoenix member Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles, will have his trial on the 8th of November, at 4 pm. Due to the notoriety of the accused, the trial will be open to the public"**

Narcissa read and reread the notice in the Daily Prophet - she had recently taken up reading both the Daily and Evening Prophet, scrutinising every page, reading every article hoping for the absence of any news of the Lestranges, for that must mean they are still successfully hiding. She gazed fixedly at the picture of Sirius Black; his hair was matted, and he was laughing as if he had just heard the most ridiculous joke in the world. The battle between curiosity and family duty waged inside Narcissa, with family duty finally vanquished; she wanted to see what her cousin had become, a blood traitor turned secret spy; so secret in fact, that the Dark Lord's inner circle did not know. Lucius was at Hogwarts, in a governors meeting, and Draco was at Theodore's birthday party, consequently, Narcissa managed to convince herself that this was merely a distraction for her ennui.

Sirius was brought in by two aurors, and accompanied by four Dementors. Narcissa pulled her cloak tighter around her body, shielding herself from the biting cold, whilst the Wizengamot members, in their silk plum robes, shuddered as the cold hit them. He was as handsome as Narcissa remembered; he had the same high cheekbones and sharp jawline as Bella, and his blue eyes were like a reflection of her own. It had been six years since Narcissa properly saw her cousin - it was during the Christmas holidays of 1975, when they were in their fifth year Hogwarts, Narcissa and her parents had been invited to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, as Bellatrix was spending the holidays with her new husband, and Andromeda was never to be spoken of again. Sirius and his mother Walburga had had another one of their fiery rows, and Christmas lunch was fraught with tension. On that day, Sirius packed the few belongings he treasured and left, and on the same day, Narcissa saw her aunt blast Sirius's name from the family tapestry, and he was never spoken of again. To be sure, they saw each other at Hogwarts, but being in different Houses, and keen to avoid each other, they merely caught sight of the backs of each other's heads, certainly, they never spoke to each other again.

"You are Sirius Orion Black, yes?" Barty Crouch asked, his tone suggesting that it was more of a statement.

Sirius did not deign to reply, instead his smirk grew wider and he let out a harsh laugh.

Perhaps he is a Death Eater, Narcissa thought, his utter disregard for the trial suggested he was more alike with Bellatrix than Narcissa gave credit; he obviously did not care whether he is found guilty, evidently he was willing to go to Azbakan for the Dark Lord just like Bella.

Crouch, angry at Sirius' visible disregard for his authority, slammed his fist onto the table in front, and ordered the metal chains wrapped around Sirius's body to be tightened.

"Sirius Black, you are charged with the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles as well as being a spy You-Know-Who which led to the deaths of Lily and James Potter!"

"I am, aren't I? I was never no spy, but the Potters were my dearest friends and I killed them, and that filthy piece of scum Pettigrew? He deserved to die."

The reactions were instantaneous; some cursed and shouted, others of a more sensitive disposition gasped and almost fainted at Sirius's lack of remorse.

"That is enough!" Crouch shouted, until the courtroom was silent once more, his face turning a peculiar shade which matched his robes.

"Sirius Black you are sentenced to life in Azkaban!"

Narcissa felt a slight pang of sadness, despite everything, Sirius was still her cousin; the boy she had fought with over whose turn it was on the toy broomstick, and who she shared her worries about starting Hogwarts. Now he was to live a life no better than death, he was lucky to survive twenty years, and ten of those as a sane man.

By the time Narcissa returned home, Lucius had already returned, having picked up Draco along the way, and he was currently trying to teach the young child how to ride a broom.

"Lucius! We said we would wait until he's older! He can barely walk, let alone ride a broomstick!"

"He's fine, he has my blood, and you know how fine a flyer I was in Hogwarts,"replied Lucius, grinning and looking proudly at his son.

Narcissa placed a spoonful of the beef stew into her mouth, it felt as if she was chewing leather. She forced herself to swallow it, but she could not manage another morsel of food – even the wine tasted sour.

"You are not eating." Lucius observed.

"This beef is dry. The wine is sour."

Lucius consequently, also ate some of the beef and took a sip of the wine.

"No, it's not, Dobby has been making this stew since I was a child, it has never been dry. And the wine, I bottled this myself and I can assure you - my darling, what is the matter?" Lucius noticed the vacant and downcast expression on Narcissa's face. He had only seen her look like this once before; when she found out about the death of her younger cousin Regulus.

"What? Nothing's the matter. I'm fine. And what's the matter with you? Why are you calling me darling all of a sudden?"

"I'm worried about you, clearly something's wrong. You have the look on your face."

"The look? I don't have a look. My face betrays no emotion."

"Did something happen today? Is that why you're-" Lucius stopped as realisation dawned, "today was Sirius's trial wasn't it?"

"They didn't even give him a proper trial, Crouch, it was as if he decided Sirius's guilt beforehand, what if it is the same –"

"You went to his trial? Is that why you were out? You should not be go to those places Cissa, you know it does not do us any favours for you to be seen associating with convicted Death Eaters."

Narcissa threw down her knife and fork onto her plate with a loud clang, she did not ask to be scolded like a little child as though she had done something wrong.

"He is not just a convicted Death Eater, Lucius, he is, he was family. It could be Bella, or even you, sitting where Sirius sat in the future, do you expect me to just sit at home whilst you're being condemned to a half life? No need to worry, I made sure I wasn't seen, lest your pristine reputation is soiled."

Lucius poured out the last drops of wine into his glass and drank it in one go; Narcissa was angry at him and he was going to need all the help he could get.

"Narcissa, I didn't mean to berate you for caring about your family, of course I do not mean to prevent you from seeing them. Please do not think think that I doubt your judgement – you should do what you think is best, for you and your family."

Narcissa glare at her husband for a few seconds, as if judging the sincerity of his apology.

"You are right, I know that it would not help our case if I was seen to be close with people like Sirius – I shall be more careful in the future. However, I am not worried about him, I am worried about you. Crouch does not give people trials, people he suspect do not have a chance to defend themselves - Sirius's trial was a mummer's farce- I do not wish to see you dragged away to Azkaban on his mockery of justice."

"I swear in the name of Salazar Slytherin himself, I will not allow myself to be sent to Azkaban Cissy. I won't leave you and Draco alone - I love you both too much. Besides, they have no evidence against me, and even if they do, I have the trust of the Minister herself, a word from her, and Crouch won't dare arrest me,' said Lucius, softly clasping his wife's hand. 'Now finish your dinner Cissa, you look exhausted, Merlin knows you need some energy," he ordered sternly, although not unkindly.

Whenever possible, Narcissa liked to spend time with Draco, and when Lucius was otherwise unoccupied, he would join them. This evening, they were sitting in one of their larger drawing rooms, to provide Draco with ample room for his flying practice. In the space of a few hours, he has proved himself to be a sound flier; already able to fly three feet in the air and to catch the small soft Quaffle whenever it is thrown at him. Their pleasant family evening, however was cut short, when Croesus Nott's head unceremoniously erupted from the fireplace, causing Draco to tumble off his broomstick, and Narcissa running to comfort him.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing? You ought to tell us prior-"

"Shut up Malfoy. We need to go. Dolohov has just been taken by Moody. Hurry!"

Stunned, Lucius wordlessly summoned a cloak and grabbed the green flames of Croesus Nott's hand and stepped into the fireplace, whereupon a burst of emerald flames engulfed them both. The next thing he knew, Lucius was expelled into an unfamiliar room with high ceilings and richly decorated in cerulean and gold.

"We need to wait for Rosier – he ought to be arriving soon." Nott glanced at his pocket watch, it was 7:54 pm, and the portkey was due to arrive at 8 pm sharp.

"Where in Merlin's name did you bring me Nott?"

"Dolohov's  _humble abode._ St. Petersburg," replied the older wizard, dusting off ash from the sleeve of his robes.

"St. Petersburg? In  _Russia_?" Lucius stared at his companion who did not look at all disconcerted by this, and carried on picking small pieces of debris of his robes. 'I hope you realise that travelling across borders using Floo without prior consent is illegal?' Lucius hissed, "If the Floo Net-"

"Lucius," the older wizard placed a hand on Lucius's shoulder and raised one eyebrow "you've killed and tortured, yet breaking Floo transport regulations is where you draw the line? Not to worry, someone had taken care of that, they won't find out."

"And pray, who is this  _someone_ whom you seem to trust with so much?"

"Dolores Umbridge, I believe you knew her at Hogwarts – Slytherin too. Improper Use of Magic Office but she's got a few tricks up her sleeve, anyhow, no one has been monitoring your fireplace for months."

Dolores Umbridge was someone Lucius tried very hard to forget, she was a bothersome little girl who often sported a pink bow or hairband. As she was in Slytherin as well as Lucius's year, he had the grave misfortune of sharing all of his classes with her, even up to N.E.W.T level, as he – regrettably – took the same subjects as her.

"That Umbridge girl – woman, she's a nasty piece of work Nott, are you certain she can be trusted?"

"2She is slimy and vexatious to be sure, but I trust her," Nott answered with a smirk, as though he was privy to a juicy secret.

"Oh really? How so?"

"She wants to marry me, I'm pretty sure. Ever since Athena died, she's been batting her eyes and pouting her mouth at me.  _Mr Nott, I absolutely adore children! I do feel for you, all alone in your home with a young child, how tough that much be!_  It's irritating but she's got her uses."

"Merlin," Lucius rolled his eyes and exhaled slowly, "is she still doing that? One would hope she had enough sense to take the hint."

"Come now Malfoy, you have deeply offended me – there I was thinking she wanted to marry me for my mysterious charms and rugged masculinity," Nott uttered, lines forming around his dark eyes as he smirked.

"Your ego always got the better of you Nott. It is your blood, your wealth and your power that woman wants to marry."

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed thrice, as Nott strode towards a window and opened the brocade curtains. Outside in the snow, Lucius could just make out two silhouettes; one tall and slender and the other approximately half the size – a child – making their way towards the house. Some minutes later, the doors of the parlour opened and a woman with a small child entered, both draped in long black woollen cloaks that looked like they had seen better days. Without any warning, Nott strode up to the woman and pointed his wand squarely in the middle of her chest.

"Antonin's birthday. What present did I give him?"

"A dagger – goblin silver – the hilt is inlaid with emeralds, and you told him that it  _will cut one's throat like butter_ ," she answered, unperturbed.

Nott lowered his wand as the woman lowered her hood, she was, Lucius approximated, his age or slightly older, with elegant features, ash blonde hair and cool blue eyes like icebergs, although at this moment, it was in a disheveled low bun and her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, either from a lack of sleep or crying. Having ascertained that the pair were otherwise unharmed, Nott seemed to suddenly remember Lucius's presence and turned to introduce them.

"Lucius, this is Nadezdha, Dolohov's wife, and Dimitri, his son."

She nodded curtly in Lucius's direction before turning back to Nott.

"I'm sorry, Theodore. We were ambushed by Aurors when we left the house – he told me to apparate to the Portkey without him and that he would join us but –" she broke off abruptly, gently shaking her head.

"It is not your fault. He knew the risks but it was the right thing to do, besides, he might still be alive – a few years in Azkaban before the Dark Lord returns –"

"No, Evan is dead."

* * *

 

Narcissa was not worried about Lucius, after all, during the  _war_  –as the newspapers were calling it – he had often been called away by a fellow Death Eater or the Dark Lord himself, besides, Lucius had an uncanny knack of avoiding harm and trouble – an exceptional sense of self-perseverance – in fact, Narcissa could only remember one instance where he was injured on the Dark Lord's missions; Crabbe had been practicing one of Severus's curses when he, when his damn lousy aim hit Lucius instead, who ended up with an awful wound on his arm. Draco has quite recovered from his little fall, and having grown tired of Quaffle catching, has now taken to chasing Dobby around on his toy broomstick. Perusing the Evening Prophet looking for news on the Lestranges, Narcissa came across an article on Sirius's trial, or rather, his whole life.

**SIRIUS BLACK: VILLAIN OR VICTIM?**

_Sirius Black, notorious Death Eater, was sentenced to life in Azkaban earlier today, however, can we really blame him for his actions? The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black has spawned many a dark wizard before, such as Cygnus Black I, father of the first Sirius Black. He was rumoured to have fashioned a necklace using precious opals he found during his travels in Brazil. Keen to protect his treasure, he cursed the necklace so that anyone apart from himself would die after coming in contact with it. His daughter Elladora, who inherited the necklace after he died, was said to have used it to kill unwitting muggle women – the Ministry suspects that it may have been the cause of around twenty muggle deaths last century. Of course, in more contemporary times, we have Bellatrix Lestrange, cousin of Sirius Black, who is wanted for the torture of the Longbottoms, and Sirus's own brother Regulus, who died whilst on a mission for You-Know-Who. I, Rita Skeeter, journalist for the Prophet, have secured interviews with those who personally knew Black, whose family's blood is tainted with Dark Magic. 'Walburga was an arrogant woman prone to violent outbursts, she would often set things on fire when she was angry,' a close friend of Black's uncle Alphard told me, clearly fire and explosions are not the only thing Sirius and his mother…_

Narcissa threw the paper into the fireplace, feeling more and more incensed with every breath.  _Whose family's blood is tainted with Dark Magic, tainted with Dark Magic?_ How dare this woman write such dishonest and fictitious lies about her family? Walburga was not  _arrogant,_ she merely had a healthy dose of self-respect, and quite rightly so, she was pure-blood and the matriarch of House Black, of course she would not condescend herself with mudbloods and blood traitors. Narcissa's aunt Walburga did, however, become enraged often, but that was only when truly disgraceful things happened, for instance, when the mudblood Nobby Leach became Minister for Magic. Narcissa made a mental note to write a strong worded letter to the Barnanbus Cuffe, editor of the Prophet, about this libellous attack on her family - she was aiming for the removal of Rita Skeeter.

"Draco, darling, come. You must be tired. Dobby has a lot of things to do, let's read The Wizard and the Hopping Pot!" Narcissa called.

"No! Mummy I'm not tired and neither is Dobby, right Dobby?" came Draco's reply from the hallway, followed by a melody of gleeful laughter.

Narcissa sighed, Draco certainly does take after his father, both seem to possess the inability to listen to others – suddenly, a gentle yet rapid series of knocking bought Narcissa'a attention to the window, where a handsome great grey owl was perched, tapping its beak on the window pane. She instantly recognised the owl as belonging to her parents, whereupon she opened the window and untied the letter from the owl's leg before sending it on its way. Narcissa recognized the elegant script as that of her mother's, although today it looked somewhat jerky and hasty – she noticed the tiny scuffs on the paper on the dot above the 'i' where her mother had punctuated perhaps a little too forcefully with her quill, and the tiny streaks of dried ink, where her mother did not blot. She quickly torn off the wax seal; it was not often that Druella Black lost her nerve, much unlike her sister-in-law, after all, she had instilled in Narcissa that as a pure-blood witch, propriety was of paramount importance.

_Dearest Narcissa,_

_Come as soon as you can to Grimmauld Place, your uncle Orion has fallen ill – the healers say he does not have long – it is his heart again, you know how he has never fully recovered from the Nundu encounter. I apologise for informing you so late, we were rather caught up in the moment._

_Love, your mother._

_P.S. The fireplace is blocked, you have to apparate._

Wordlessly, she summoned two cloaks – one for herself and one for Draco before finding her son and gently lifting him off his broomstick. Draco, sensing something serious was happening by the hard set line of his mother's mouth and the slight frown between her eyebrows, obediently followed his mother by putting on his cloak and allowing himself to be carried in her arms. As they made their way along the tall hedgerows, Narcissa kissed her child softly on forehead before they both disappeared with a quiet pop.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Lucius barely heard the rest of what Mrs. Dolohov's was saying; he stared at her aghast, her words incomprehensible as though she were speaking Russian.

There were not many people Lucius Malfoy considered friends, Evan Rosier was one of the rare few. At Hogwarts Rosier was a prefect when Lucius was still a puny little first year, who defended him when he was caught sneaking food into the common room at midnight by Arthur Weasley - if Rosier didn't find him Weasley most certainly would have given him detention for weeks.  What is more, Rosier was the Slytherin's Quidditch Captain who chose Lucius as Keeper at the start of second year. Together -Lucius liked to think- as a pair, Keeper and Chaser, they made sure Slytherin Team never lost a match - no Quaffle made its way past Lucius and a Quaffle in Rosier's hands always found its way into one of the goal hoops. When Lucius was seventeen, it was Rosier who approached him about becoming a Death Eater, and it was Rosier who led him on his first mission. when Lucius married Narcissa, Rosier became a frequent and welcomed visitor at Malfoy Manor. Not that many of this mattered anymore; now that Rosier will surely be exposed and subject to posthumous condemnation by the wizarding community Lucius must appear to have severed all ties with him and reduce their friendship to that of ‘mere acquaintance whilst at Hogwarts.’

"Right. Right well we shall have to carry on without Rosier then, won't we?" Lucius heard Nott say.

 "And exactly what are we doing here Nott?"

 "Rosier was supposed to bring Nadezdha and Dimitri here from the safe house - which he succeeded in - and we were to search the house for any objects which might...incriminate Dolohov, or anyone else. Say, for example if he had a photo of you and Lestrange laughing whilst cursing a muggle."

 "Why in merlin's name would there be a pho-"

 "I don't know Malfoy, it’s called an example."

 "Well it is just unlikely I would do something so foolish," Lucius muttered, nevertheless, he began to open and empty drawers onto the floor.

* * *

 

  It was approaching dawn when Nott was finally satisfied that collected as many incriminating objects as possible, which now laid in a pile in the middle of the parlour, ranging from poisons to scraps of paper with dates and times of previous attacks written on them.

 "Father, he isn’t coming back is he? Mother says that everything will be alright and, and that we shall see him soon but - but we shan’t, shall we?"

 "Listen - your father he’s safe and –" 

Dimitri’s dark round eyes regarded Lucius skeptically. "You’re lying. I heard mother talking about it - father is in prison is he not? And he won’t see me every again!"

Lucius, quite honestly, had no clue what to do; he had no younger siblings to take care of and Draco was still young, not yet reached the age where he was troubled by problems unsolvable by a wave of a wand or a few galleons.

 "Ah – well – yes, your father has been arrested and he will most likely go to Azkaban - but that’s why we're here, to try to help him so he can get out as soon as possible - in a few years he'll be out."

 "Really? Will that be soon? I hope that I can see him again before I start at Durmstrang."

 "I – yes I am sure that your father will be there to wave you off to Durmstrang."

Merlin help you Lucius! What are you doing promising the kid these things? You know fully well that death eaters do not get out. They rot in Azkaban.

 Lucius awkwardly patted the boys head and headed back to rejoin Nott and Mrs. Dolohov, the boy's sad eyes somehow still appearing in front of his eyes. This could have been Draco, he thought, and it still could be,

 "Malfoy! Get back over here!" Nott barked.

Lucius made his way back towards the study to see Nott holding a piece of paper, crumpling the part in his hand, his face contorted in a manner which emphasised his already deep wrinkles.

 "What in Merlin's name is the matter?"

 "The bastard...the fucking bastard..." growled Nott over and over as if chanting a curse.

Lucius, alarmed by the sudden change from Nott’s usual impassive and nonchalant disposition, snatched the piece of paper out of his hand.

     _My dear Antonin,_

_You cannot begin to imagine how hard, how difficult it is for me right now - I've been hiding since the Dark Lord's fall - the Aurors are after me I know I'm sure – my home, it was ransacked just yesterday. Sometimes, especially now, I think that it was a terrible terrible mistake getting involved in this whole business - I regret allowing you to convince me all those years ago but I don't blame you, I don't blame you at all Antonin you have been one of my closest dearest friend for as long as I can remember which is why I must tell you this; I have absolutely no desire to rot in Azkaban for the rest of my sorry life - I am afraid that I will disappoint you most gravely with what I plan to do – but I promise, Antonin, I will try to keep you out of it. You see, this is my chance to start afresh - live a new life now that the Dark Lord is gone. I know how much this cause and the Dark Lord meant to you, but he’s gone now, don’t you see! It’s over and the Ministry will catch us._

_Your Dearest Friend, Igor_

 

 "That's how they knew where the Longbottoms were. And all this time we suspected it was Snape,' Nott said. 'Who knows what else that bastard told them,' Nott continued, 'anything to save his own skin."

 "This traitor, he betrayed dear Anton, he is the reason my Dimitri has no father! You know, I cooked for this man! I made him my grandmother’s borscht and this, this is how he decides to repay us? Croesus, if you catch this _man_ ," Mrs. Dolohov’s mouth strained to say the word; to her, Karkaroff was clearly no longer deserving of this title, ‘if you catch him, send Anton and my regards.’

This is how everything will end then, after all the careful steps Lucius took to ensure no evidence, however minimal, would link him to the Dark Lord, as always, someone else, someone foolish and careless ruined everything.

"Do you think the Aurors know already? Is it time to start making escape plans?" Lucius thought suddenly of his dear mother and father, blissfully ignorant in their château in Avignon and then of his wife and child; would he ever see them again? His poor precious son would be forced to grow up fatherless, and Lucius would miss his metamorphosis from boy to man - he wondered if Azkaban would allow regular visits, unlikely, although given his position within wizarding society and his close relationship with prominent Ministry members, he was confident an agreement could be reached.

 "Malfoy. Malfoy, if the Aurors had any suspicion of your involvement with the Dark Lord you would already be in chains by now - so can you please for the sake of Merlin concentrate on our current task at hand?  As I was just saying, we burn what we can, and the rest we take away. Incendio. "

A pile of paper, mainly letters promptly burst into flames, but Lucius knew, as he gazed at the  dancing orange flames and the pieces of paper curling and blackening, that no matter how many things they burnt, Dolohov's sentence will not be reduced, partly because the Aurors have enough evidence already, and partly because they do not particularly care about evidence – under Crouch, they operated under the general guide of ‘guilty until proven innocent’.

 

"Gentlemen, I thank you deeply for your help today. I am certain that Anton would be most grateful and glad that he has some loyal friend still," Mrs Dolohov declared, standing up from the dark blue velvet armchair where she had been sitting watching the flames grow, and as she approached, Lucius saw that she was holding a bottle of what looked like Oblonsky’s Vodka.

 "I think a toast is in order tonight," she continued, conjuring up three glasses, "to the brave sacrifices made by so many for such a noble cause," it was indeed vodka, the smell hitting Lucius strongly as she poured generously in each glass, "to Antonin, who never surrendered what he truly believed in, and to Evan Rosier, who died helping my son and I. Let us never forget their noble sacrifices for the greater good."

After their toast, Mrs. Dolohov said her farewells before leading her son away to their private rooms, where they will wait for the Aurors and act that they were absolutely shocked and had no idea that such a loving father and husband would be involved in such crimes.

 "Well we better get going. The Aurors will be arriving soon. Lucius, you take that bag-" Nott indicated towards a large sack filled with oddly shaped objects - "and I'll take this one."

Lucius gazed at the sack of which he was now responsible for - filled with daggers decorated with jewels as well as hexes, mysterious boxes and bottles engraved in Cyrillic on which he was willing to bet the entire Malfoy estate were not Madame Petrova’s Cleaning Products. Why he had to take them into his personal possession Lucius could not rationalise; apart from the practical benefits of having mortally harmful objects, even if the ministry could not find any link to the Dark Lord, the shear amount would surely, at best, raise a few eyebrows in the Ministry. But alas, now was not the right time to argue with Nott - in fact, it rarely was, come to think of it.

 Croesus Nott was one of the first Death Eaters - in fact, in his days, the name ‘Death Eater’ was not even a name which was heard outside of The Dark Lord’s circles. Nott soon changed that. Croesus Nott was a dangerous and rare mix of discretion and ruthlessness, creating horrific scenes garnering and planting seeds of widespread fear of the death eaters around the UK. For the past few years, since around the time Lucius formally took the mark, Nott has taken on a more consultatory role among the farms lords subjects. This is partly as a reward for his many years of unfailing loyalty and success and the fact that Nott, regarding extreme acts of violence, prefers a spectator role - he would rather leave the field work to those like the Lestranges, who are more inclined towards violence. No, Croesus Nott was friendly, but like Lucius, he enjoyed power, wielded either through violence or influence and Merlin did he wield it well.

 "With respect, Nott, I -"

 "Malfoy, you are too proud to show anyone respect - you’re about to say something you think I won’t want to hear, aren’t you?"

 "I personally do not think that taking bags of incriminating dark objects with us is, ah, the best course of action."

Nott tilted his head and raised an eyebrow slightly, which Lucius took as a sign for him to elaborate.

 "You know the Ministry have recently taken to conducting random and rigorous house searches – how do you think it will look when they stumble across two potato sacks of weapons and poisons? Besides, think of Theodore, would you feel safe knowing that he might come across something and injure himself by accident?"

Appeal to the emotions of the person you are trying to persuade, and children, in Lucius’s experience, tugged strongly on emotional strings.

 "Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to leave it lying around in Theodore’s nursery," Nott countered, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

 "Dolohov was brave, we all agree but –" Lucius sighed internally; honestly even this was going above and beyond what Dolohov deserved, the danger Lucius was putting himself into was immeasurable, and he certainly did not tell Dolohov to go and make meat confetti with the Prewett brothers, and yet, now he was the one cleaning up the mess. "Nott, think of the risk we are putting ourselves into, do you _know_ the kinds of charms being developed in the ministry right now? They have a spell, which can detect dark magic activity _to the nearest yard_!"

Nott stood still and regarded Lucius expressionlessly for a few moments, and Lucius began worrying that he had spoken out of turn, so when Nott suddenly reached his hand down, Lucius genuinely believed he was about to be hexed. Luckily, Nott was merely rummaging through one of the bags, until he found what he was looking for – a polished wooden box with the most curiously shaped silver carving on the lid.

 "This was inspired by a Venus Fly Trap. You do know what they are, don’t you Malfoy?"

Lucius nodded in the affirmative; who did not know about the infamous insect eating plant? They are curious things, almost an inversion of the natural order of things.

 "Well then you know the principle behind this idea then. The curious victim’s unknowingly reaches to grab this little flower to open the box, but before he can, it snaps shut on his hand, And then," Nott paused for what Lucius assumed was dramatic effect, "a remarkable potion is released onto his trapped hand, which burns and dissolves it."

Lucius stared at the object in Nott’s hand in stunned silence. He mentally raked his mind, trying to find something appropriate to say but all he could manage was opening and closing his mouth whilst furrowing his brows.

 "Antonin’s hobby was always botany – he designed this after his trip to America. The potion as well. You haven’t seen him when he was busy in his office, so intent on working on a new idea of his that he would forget to eat for the whole day. Antonin was my friend and I don’t intend to let his life’s works become confiscated and locked away in a vault in the Ministry to collect dust, Malfoy."

 Lucius was surprised that Dolohov meant so much to Nott, rather, Lucius was surprised that Nott had the capacity to care for someone as much as this. Did Lucius care about anyone as much as this? Certainly, his family, but were there anyone else for whom he was willing to risk his own wellbeing, the way Nott was willing to for Dolohov? Suddenly, he felt a rush of shame, for planning to distance himself from the Rosiers after Evan’s tragic death earlier that night; no, now was a time where Adeline needed support the most, and Lucius made a mental note to regularly call on the Rosiers from now – even if it does mean a few raised eyebrows and whispered implied accusations.

 "Fine. I’ll take some of this back with me."

After saying their final farewells to Mrs. Dolohov, Nott and Lucius picked up the bags headed back towards the fireplace from where they arrived.

 "Ravenscourt Hall." Nott disappeared in a blaze of green fire.

 "Malfoy Manor."

 

Lucius was surprised to find that Narcissa was awake; her figure forming a shadow from the rising sun. Lucius quietly approached him wife and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Uncle Orion is not well, it’s his heart - he suffered quite a large shock last night, because of the Sirius situation." Narcissa practically hissed the last two words. 

There was a long pause, in the hope that Narcissa would elaborate, Lucius stayed silent. but she did not. Lucius decided not to press the matter further - Cissa loved her uncle very much, she was someone capable of the strongest and deepest love but not as capable at expressing it.

 "How was _your_ night, Lucius?" Narcissa asked.

 "Evan, he’s dead, he was supposed to meet us at Dolohov’s place but...the Aurors got to him first." Lucius said, feeling immensely guilty for forcing Narcissa to comfort him during her hour of distress.

Narcissa placed her hand on top of Lucius’s on her shoulder, drawing little circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. There they remained, watching the sun rise over the Malfoy grounds, both too exhausted to say another word. 


	4. Chapter 4

Today had been a busy day for the Malfoys, the fact they only managed four hours of sleep – and one of the peaceful – did not help the fact that they were already exhausted and fractious by the time they were, once again, forced to be dragged unceremoniously to the Ministry to be harassed by unfounded accusations. Underneath the glacial veneer of pride and disdain, the Malfoys were like the water of Niagara Falls, especially Lucius, painfully aware of where he was and what he was doing merely twelve hours ago, and of what he was hiding in his house.

 

“I’m thinking I should pay Adeline a visit today,” Lucius said, looking thoughtfully into his cup of Earl Grey tea, “I ought to tell her in person, if she doesn’t know already. I owe Evan that.”

“That’s a lovely idea Lucius,” Narcissa replied, grimacing momentarily as she imagined poor Adeline, and her two little boys, how they were going to cope without Evan – she shuddered to imagine life if Lucius suddenly disappeared. “Would you like me to accompany you? I haven’t seen Adeline for quite some time…and I hope to see how she is doing.”

“Of course – I am sure Adeline would love to see you too.”

Lucius stuck his head into the fireplace, and was greeted by Ammi, the Rosiers’ house elf.

“Mr. Malfoy!” the elf squealed, knocking over a vase she was dusting before quickly repairing it and placing it back onto the shelf. “Mistress is not expecting sir me think! Should – should Ammi inform mistress?”

“Yes. Of course.” Lucius snapped, honestly, house elves can be really quite dense sometimes, of course that stupid thing should go inform Adeline – Lucius did not go around sticking his head into other people’s fireplaces as a pastime. “And hurry – this is an important matter.” He hated talking to people through the fireplace, _looking up_ at them from the floor, it was not a position he enjoyed.

The elf came scurrying back a few moments later, to resume her cleaning, followed by Mrs. Adeline Rosier, her auburn hair down, the strands near her face wet, her dark coal like eyes glassy and unfocussed. As soon as she saw Lucius she blinked twice, deliberately and slowly, as if to bring herself back to the present and to form some socially acceptable response to a visitor.

“Lucius, how nice of you to call – I do hope you and Narcissa are well – I’m terribly sorry – for the state I am in – now is not the best time, if I am honest –”

“Narcissa and I will be coming over, we need to talk – I know what happened, Adeline,” Lucius told her, softening his tone towards the end.

“Oh! Ah right – well, of course, you and Narcissa are always welcome,” Adeline replied, forcing a small smile.

Lucius and Narcissa arrived in the foyer of the Rosier’s residence a few moments later, waiting for Ammi to show them to Adeline. Lucius was almost knocked to the ground, and he looked down at a head of auburn curls. The small boy froze, slowly and apprehensively looking up at the figure which he just crashed into.

“I am terribly sorry, Mr Malfoy! I didn’t see you, you see!” he explained, panting slightly, his face flushed, “I was just playing with Alfie and – promise you won’t tell mother? She looked like she wasn’t in a very good mood this morning,” he continued, his round, golden brown eyes sheepishly looking at Lucius.

“It is quite alright, Edmund, Mr. Malfoy isn’t hurt, and we promise we won’t tell your mother, but only if you promise to be more careful and watch where you are going from now on. Hmm?” Narcissa comforted the young boy, kneeling down to smooth out his ruffled shirt, patting his head affectionately, but before he could reply, the sound of rapid, light footsteps was followed swiftly another boy, who nearly crashed into the first, before snatching something from the former’s hand.

“Give it back to me! It’s my dragon!”

“It is not your dragon! It’s mine, Eddie! It’s not my fault yours fell into the water!”

“It’s not fair – you were the one who wanted to see if dragons swim. They don’t swim, you idiot!”

“Edmund! Alfred! What is going on?” Adeline appeared on the stairs. She looked worse than she did in the fire, Lucius observed, now he could see just how red and blotchy her tear stained cheeks are, and just how much she was shaking; her hands gripping the elegantly carved mahogany horse head on the corner of the banister like talons in an effort to still herself.

“We’re sorry, mother,” the two boys simultaneously said, looking sheepishly at the ground.

“But Eddie started it – he took my dragon!”

“I thought you both had a dragon each.”

“I only took Alfie’s dragon because he made me –”

“That’s quite enough, boys. I’ll buy you another dragon sometime. Now, as you can see, we have guests, please keep the noise down.”

As the boys ran off to play undisturbed, Adeline sighed and gestured to the Malfoys to follow her as she re-entered the room from which she had silently emerged a few moments before. As soon as the door was closed behind Narcissa, Adeline collapsed into an armchair, her small frame sinking into the moss green cushion as she folded in on herself and buried her head in her hands.

“What am I to do?” She said dully, her auburn hair cascading over her face.

“When did you find out?” Lucius gently enquired.

Adeline looked up and gestured toward the round table in the middle of the room, where a piece of paper with the black ministry seal laid.

_Dear Mrs. Adeline Rosier,_

_It is with the deepest regret that I must inform you of the death of your husband Mr Evan Rosier last night. The exact details of your husband’s death are still to be confirmed but as soon as we are certain you shall be the first to be informed. Due to the circumstances of your Mr Rosier’s death we would like to ask you to come to the Auror office as soon as possible to clear up issues, and unfortunately, we cannot release Mr Rosier’s body back to you yet, but we are endeavouring to do that as soon as we can._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mr Alastor Moody, Head Auror, Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

 

How absolutely despicable! Holding Evan’s body over Adeline to force her to talk to them – this was disgracefully desperate and Narcissa was internally seething, shocked that the aurors could sink so low. But then again, she ought not to be so surprised, after all, it one cannot expect much better from A _lastor Moody_. The Moody family was a respectable enough pure-blood wizarding family – Nestor Moody, Alastor’s father, however, was very vocal in his advocacy for stricter laws against blood discrimination, going as far as marrying a mudblood after Alastor’s mother died. Thank Merlin that Nestor was merely a member of a junior branch of the family; the Moodys who still resided in Glendon Castle, were almost as pure as the first wizards.

“I have to talk to them, don’t I” Adeline said resignedly as if reading Narcissa’s mind, as she started shaking.

Narcissa quietly and gently sat down next to Adeline, glancing up at her husband, who had remained motionless, glaring slightly at him. Lucius has never been good with strong outward bursts of emotion, both positive and negative, doing absolutely nothing with an expression of shock was one of his better reactions. Narcissa knew her husband to be an intelligent man and it surprised her that he did not think about the extremely high possibility of an outpouring of grief – Adeline had just found out her husband was killed, for Merlin’s sake. A healthy amount of time passed before Adeline was able to calm down enough that her sentences were no longer incomprehensible from being interspersed with sobs, by which time multiple handkerchiefs were soaked with tears. Narcissa summoned Ammi the elf to fetch them some tea – a hot beverage always helps distract oneself from one’s troubles, she thought, at the very least, holding something warm in her hands always brought Narcissa a small degree of comfort. Narcissa grabbed the teapot but Lucius snatched the cup from her hands, taking out his flask and proceeded to fill the cup with a good half of the contents, before handing it to Adeline.

“Firewhisky. Drink up – you definitely need something stronger than tea.”

Adeline hesitantly took a small sip, before downing the entire cup moments later, shuddering as she felt the amber liquid burn her throat and insides, leaving a growing warmth. Now that Adeline was calm enough, they began discussing what to do next, after such a terrible event, and in what ways they could help. The Malfoys promised to help in whatever ways possible, the first being getting Evan’s body released without Adeline talking to the aurors, of course, there were a multitude of options for her to talk to them without revealing anything incriminating, however, this was about the integrity, the pride, of preventing Moody from gaining the upper hand.

“Thank you, truly. Lucius, Narcissa, I cannot imagine what I would be doing without you. I know this must be hard for you, associating with the family of a Death Eater, what people will say. Evan would have been glad to have friends such as yourselves.”

“Evan was my cousin, don’t forget. You are family and I will do anything to protect my family,” Narcissa replied, firmly but gently.

 

By the time the Malfoys returned to the Manor, Draco had just woken up from his nap.

“Master Draco is crying for you mistress Narcissa, he woke up a small while before you came back, Dobby is going to make some food for master Draco now,” Dobby said, taking Lucius and Narcissa’s thick woollen cloaks before disappearing to the kitchen. Draco was indeed wide awake; he was standing in his wooden crib, his round hands grabbing the top of the crib for support, as he unsuccessfully attempted to climb out, impatiently waiting for Dobby to return as promised with his food. When Narcissa opened the door instead, Draco let out an excited gurgle and started bouncing up and down in his crib.

“Mama! Mama! I’m hungry! Dobby said he is going to get me food!”

“Draco darling,” Narcissa walked over to the crib and gently lifted Draco up into her arms, “indeed he is, I’m sure Dobby is coming soon.”

“Dobby has some sage and pumpkin soup for master Draco.”

“Just leave the tray on the table Dobby. You can leave us now.”

“Mummy I don’t want pumpkin soup. I don’t like pumpkin. I want a chocolate cauldron instead.” Narcissa smiled at her son’s indignant expression, his large grey eyes, so much like his father’s in colour but hers in shape, staring up imploringly at her. Narcissa affectionately pinched his chubby cheek, chuckling as she explained how he couldn’t possibly dislike pumpkin when he somehow managed to finish two whole pumpkin pasties the other day. Draco gave up and resigned himself to be fed by his mother. The door opened once again, this time, by Lucius.

“I thought I would find you here.”

Narcissa smiled at her husband, gesturing for him to come closer – so did Draco, grappling at the air between him and his father with outstretched hands. He walked towards mother and son, taking out a small packet from the inner pocket of his robes.

“Look what I have for my favourite son!” Lucius handed the packet to Draco, dropping it into his outstretched palms.

“A chocolate cauldron!” As soon as Draco realised what it was, he snatched it from his father’s hand and held it tightly to his chest with both hands, looking up at his mother gleefully.

“Lucius!” Narcissa gently hit his arm, “you know I’ve been trying to wean him off sweets – soon Draco will refuse to eat anything else.”

“I don’t see why he can’t have a chocolate cauldron. He held up his end of the bargain judging by the now empty bowl of pumpkin soup, the boy deserves a reward,” Lucius smirked, taking Draco from Narcissa’s arms, helping him open the wrapper.

Narcissa looked at her husband and son; she was proud of the family she had – the family she helped create. It was perfect, she wished she could spend the rest of her days like this, in Malfoy Manor, surrounded by Lucius and Draco, happy and safe – most importantly of all, _together_. Since Draco’s birth, there has not been many opportunities where all three Malfoys were together; at the height of the Dark Lord’s reign, Lucius had gone out most nights, and in the daytime, he was busy at the Ministry, trying his hardest to act like a man who did not, in fact, spend the night killing muggles. Narcissa had hoped, that the Dark Lord’s demise would at least mean her, and her family’s lives would return to peace and safety – even if it did mean losing the war against bloodtraitors and mudbloods.

“How dare he? Holding Evan’s dead body over our heads? As a – as a reward for Adeline talking to him?” Narcissa seethed, “Does that man have no respect for a dead man’s family?”

“Moody doesn’t respect Death Eaters, Cissa,” replied Lucius dully, flopping down onto a nearby cushion, “or their families.”

“Is there truly nothing we can do? Lucius, I refuse to believe that there is nobody in the Ministry you can talk to, to persuade Moody to reconsider.”

“Right. But do I know someone who has the authority to force Moody to reconsider? I can hardly ask Barty Crouch over a glass of firewhisky to let Moody release the body of a dangerous Death Eater back to his dangerous Death Eater family, can I?”

“Well, why in Merlin’s name can’t you? I recall us having a rather pleasant conversation with him at the celebration event.”

“Possibly. We would have to play up the family rationale though – he is very principled; he will only help you if her morals allow.”

“Morals. Does that make him feel better about himself?” Narcissa sniffed, the corner of her mouth twitching in a smirk – she never really had much respect nor understanding for people’s morals; having them seemed rather close minded, and as a member of the Black family, she has had more than her fair share of judgement from people who fancied themselves morally superior – luckily, judgement was rarely from anyone of any importance to her.

“Don’t be too harsh, darling, not everyone is rich enough to do whatever they want and get away with it.”

“Come to think of it, we haven’t hosted a good party in quite a while – it is about time the wizarding world is honoured by another Malfoy party, don’t you agree Lucius?”

“Are you hoping that a sufficient dosing of our Superior Red will persuade him to bend his morals?”

“Of course not darling – did you even see him at the party?” Narcissa asked teasingly, rolling the ball which Draco has been playing with back towards him. “we are going to need something _much_ stronger.”

* * *

 

Their own dinner was interrupted by Dobby, who informed them that two wizards from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were outside the gates.

“We couldn’t get through your gate this time, Mr Malfoy,” Dawlish, the older, smaller wizard said, almost apologetically.

“Well you see, the gate is enchanted for the very purpose of keeping unwanted visitors away,” replied Lucius, smirking into his napkin as he dabbed the corners of his mouth. After members of the DMLE had rudely barged into Malfoy Manor last time, Lucius made certain that the iron gate did not allow entry for anyone from the ministry without Lucius’s prior consent.

“Why would we be unwanted visitors then?” Shacklebolt interjected, his nostrils flaring slightly at the implication.

“You arrive unannounced not once, but twice at Malfoy Manor, with no concrete reasons, demanding that we drop whatever it is we are doing and allow ourselves to be hastily dragged to the Ministry for whatever unfounded accusations you decide to throw at us!”

“We don’t make the rules, Malfoy. And neither do you – so I suggest you both follow me so we can get this over and done with. Moody doesn’t take too kindly to his Death Eater investigations being held up and he doesn’t care how many friends you have in the Ministry either.”

“Mr Dawlish, you seem like a reasonable man,” Narcissa slowly took a sip from her glass, gritting her teeth slightly on the rim as she endeavoured to remain composed, “please inform your colleague that it is in very poor taste to threaten a man in his own home and that whilst Mr. Moody might not care about our friends in the Ministry, he should.”

“We do not mean to threaten, Mrs Malfoy, I’m sure you’ll appreciate that we are only doing our job”

Neither Malfoy replied to Dawlish, instead choosing to carry on with their dinner as though their unwanted guests were not standing over them.

“We’ll, er, wait for you to finish, then,” Dawlish continued, clearly uneasy at the silence, he jerked slightly, making a move to sit down before thinking better of it and deciding to remain standing. Narcissa looked down at her venison and red wine stew, smiling as she proceeded to leisurely  break off a piece of bread, fully aware of how uneasy the Aurors felt, forcing herself not to chuckle as she saw from the corner of the eye, Dawlish check his pocket watch with a hint of impatience. Her satisfaction, unfortunately, was short-lived; a few moments later she felt the presence of Shacklebolt looming over her, casting a shadow on her plate and her mood.

“I was not aware you were planning on forcibly removing us from our home,” Lucius drawled, raising his eyebrow at Shacklebolt who was standing annoyingly close behind his wife.

“No, Mr Malfoy, but can you hurry up? – we actually have a job to do.”

“Certainly,” replied Lucius with a slight sneer, whilst slowly and deliberately refilling Narcissa’s glass to the brim with red wine before pouring an equally generous amount into his own glass. When the Malfoy had finally finished with their meal, they followed the now impatient aurors to the black ministry car parked outside the Manor gates.

 

The room which the aurors led them to was significantly better than the previous room; to be sure it was still a dimly lit interrogation room, but it did not feel so claustrophobically underground, most likely because of the absence of the damp and dusty smell which was so noticeable before. Even the chairs in this room were upholstered.

“Mr and Mrs Malfoy, we offer my sincerest apologies for the short notice, I am afraid it is Mr Crouch who decided the rules. We hope that you were not too inconvenienced. Please, take a seat, I’m afraid these are not very comfortable but let us hope we do not keep you here too long,” an unfamiliar voice said, before the owner of that voice stepped forward to greet the new arrivals.

Narcissa turned to the new voice and regarded the young man to whom it belonged carefully; he was enshrouded in a deep blue robes, the turned-up collar covering the bottom half of his face, the slashes on the sleeves exposing the white silk shirt underneath.

“Look who decided to show up in the end,” Shacklebolt muttered as he took off his cloak and flung it onto the back of one of the chairs.

“Apologies, Shacklebolt, for my lateness, there was an urgent matter which required my most undivided attention. Ah, but I see both Malfoys are here, so it seemed you managed perfectly despite my absence.”

 “What is he doing here, Kingsley?” The shorter wizard Dawlish asked his partner, “does he have clearance for the Malfoy case?” 

“Mr John Dawlish I presume? Allow me to introduce myself – Bertrand Urquhart. I joined the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries last year, but I’ve decided to broaden my horizons. Mr Crouch was kind enough to allow me to participate in these recent investigations.”

Urquhart sat down, resting his chin in one his hands and crossing his legs leisurely, as though showing off his dragon hide boots which seemed to shine even in the dim light of the interrogation room. The two aurors proceeded to follow him, and sat down opposite Lucius and Narcissa, Shacklebolt gesturing for Urquhart to hand over some files.

“Mr Evan Rosier was killed last night, if you were not already awa-”

“I am.” Lucius interrupted curtly.

Shacklebolt leaned forward and raised one eyebrow slowly, regarding Lucius slowly. “You are already aware that Mr. Rosier was killed?”

Bullocks.

“I am aware that Evan is dead; my wife and I were informed by Adeline Rosier earlier today,” replied Lucius smoothly.

Shacklebolt did not look entirely convinced, whilst he was perusing the contents of the file, Dawlish was already furiously scribbling notes down. Urquhart did not move at all; he barely gave any indication that he even acknowledged the interaction, except for his deep eyes which moved, observing and scrutinising each person carefully. The interview continued like this – questions about Evan Rosier and the Malfoy’s relationship with him, Lucius and Narcissa answering, pretending to have absolutely no idea of his Death Eater activities, and the aurors being unconvinced of their answers. They can suspect all they want, but Narcissa was certain they do not have any concrete proof; after all, one can not be charged for being the cousin and childhood friend of someone who, to the surprise of everyone, turned out to be a dangerous dark wizard. Quite frankly, she was starting to become bored and annoyed at the questions; the aurors’ feeble attempts to find a weak point in their story were failing miserably. The aurors, too, were starting to show signs of frustration; Shacklebolt shuffled the pages from the file with more and more ferocity, whilst Dawlish, for the past ten minutes had begun moving restlessly in his seat, readjusting and fiddling with his robes more and more frequently. Their discomfort must have been more than obvious, as Urquhart suddenly interrupted the interrogation, to suggest a short break. Dawlish looked quite visibly relieved as he dropped his quill down on the table and leaned back in his chair, yawning as he announced he was going to go make some tea. Everyone except Shacklebolt declined his offer, who then decided to accompany his colleague, leaving the Malfoys in the charge of Urquhart, who, after his brief but well received contribution to the conversation, seemed to return to be a statue in the shadows.

“They do not have anything, Mr Malfoy. You are aware that everything they have asked is purely speculation.” Urquhart’s ocean blue eyes remaining fixed on Lucius, never breaking his gaze even when casually blowing away a strand of wavy black hair which fell in front of his face. His face instantly returned to its previous expression of indifference as he broke the stare and cast his eyes down, fixating on a dent in the table, as Shacklebolt and Dawlish returned, each holding a cup of tea.

“We have reason to believe that Rosier was operating as a part of a wider plan, in reaction to the recent arrest of another Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov.”

Lucius locked eyes with Urquhart, who’s dark blue eyes were staring intently at Lucius’s grey ones – he was almost certainly trying to convey some sort of message. Lucius, unfortunately, was at a loss as to what exactly he was attempting to communicate, understandably, seeing as half of Urquhart’s face was obscured by the shadow, and his expression has not altered since sitting down. Lucius did not react.

“We suspect that Rosier’s actions were a part of a plan to rescue Dolohov before he is sent to Azkaban. You see, we think the Rosier was working as a part of a larger group of unidentified Death Eaters, otherwise he wouldn’t have been brave or stupid enough to challenge a group of aurors for no good reason. Shame he died though. That must have put a pretty damn big spanner in the works.”

What complete fools, Urquhart was right, they knew nothing.

“Where were you last night, Mr Malfoy?”

“Why, I was at home.”

“Were you, Mr Malfoy? Well that is interesting, because you see, Amelia Bones – she’s an auror trainee – went to Malfoy Manor last night right after we identified Rosier’s body. Do you know what she said to me Malfoy? She said, that when she got to your enchanted gate and asked to see you, your gate told her that neither Malfoy was at home. I think you need to have that charm of yours checked, your gate seems quite confused.”

“It is true, Mr Shacklebolt. Lucius and I were not at home last night. We were, along with our son, with my uncle Orion, at Grimmauld Place,” Narcissa explained smoothly, her face impassive as she gently placed her hand on top of Lucius’s leg under the table.

“If that is the case why did you not say that, Mr Malfoy?” Dawlish asked.

“My uncle is gravely ill. As you are aware, Sirius Black, disowned but nevertheless his eldest son, had his trial yesterday morning, and the same day, an article appeared in the Daily Prophet slandering my family. I am afraid, that coupled with an already weak heart, it was rather too much of a shock for him.”

“Oh, er we are sorry about your uncle.”

“Of course, we did not want the news to get out – the name Black has been in the papers far more frequently than we would prefer – so my aunt instructed us to keep it between us and pretend as if nothing has happened.”

“If you want proof, by all means, ask my aunt, Walburga Black, I am sure she will be thrilled to have members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement intruding on her potentially last moments with her husband. In fact, if you do not believe her either, you can always ask the healer who treated my uncle – chronic heart illnesses are very hard to fake”

“Mrs Malfoy, we, well, that won’t be necessary. If that is the case, then I think we are done here, we have all we need for now.”

“I’ll show Mr and Mrs Malfoy out,” Urquhart announced, rising swiftly from his chair, smiling as he straightened his robes, “have a pleasant evening, folks,” he said to the aurors, not turning back as he flung open the door and stepped into the bright corridor. The Malfoys followed him out to the lifts, eager to leave now that the questioning was over.

 “Once again, Mr and Mrs Malfoy, I regret the unfortunate circumstances in which we met, but it was a pleasure, nonetheless - my friend and colleague speaks very highly of you, Mr Malfoy, he mentioned you offered him assistance in many situations in the past.” Urquhart turned towards the Malfoys, as they all waited for the arrival of their respective lifts.

“Might I enquire the name of this esteemed colleague?”

“Augustus Rookwood, Mr Malfoy.” Urquhart replied, just as the lift doors opened and he entered, nodded to the Malfoys before the doors slid shut and the lift was whisked away.

 

 


End file.
